


Simple Loves & Complex Losses: The Journal of Susan Lewis

by Thebiwife



Series: Love & Loss [2]
Category: ER (TV 1994)
Genre: Age Difference, Canon Compliant, Diary/Journal, F/M, Platonic Relationships, Suicide Attempt, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:35:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27831616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebiwife/pseuds/Thebiwife
Summary: Susan's diary entry accompanying early episodes from season one, to explore her feelings more deeply into her closest relationships in the early days.
Relationships: Div Cvetic/Susan Lewis (ER 1994), Mark Greene & Susan Lewis (ER 1994)
Series: Love & Loss [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2033827
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Simple Loves & Complex Losses: The Journal of Susan Lewis

~~Thursday~~ **Friday September 23rd, 1994**

You would think that sleeping through the 36-hour shift is all I plan to do while I lie on a gurney in the exam room used most often as a crash pad for students and residents to recuperate. In truth, fuelled by coffee with creamer (no sugar), I wait to be interrupted as I’m scrawling my thoughts into this journal, while I feel the discrete ideas floating above my head and escaping me like ducks on a mobile above a baby’s crib or a third grade science project on the solar system.

As I lay in bed, thinking about everything that I did not do that I probably should have; from warning Carter about our repeat visitor who often finds novel means to require medical attention beneath her panties, to what I did do but shouldn’t have; walking in on Mark and Jen in a more than compromising position.

At the very least the latter incident may have stopped everyone from asking if Mark and I were a _thing_ , since Jen’s fleeting presence around the department as the Chief Resident’s wife was evidently much less noticeable than my close friendship with my supervisor. And as much as we may have once been overheard saying _I love you_ to each other - in the most platonic way possible - I do at least trust the _Jerrys_ and _Timmys_ of the world to circulate the hilarious news of today’s incident as much as they did overhearing a tender moment between friends.

There was nothing to do with meaning it or not; I _do_ love Mark. I’m not sure how things were supposed to be, if you believe in destiny or predetermination or any of that. Honestly, I’m not sure I believe in anything outside of a good dose of caffeine in the morning and an occasional lay with the attending psychiatrist in the evening. 

And then there’s Div. It’s not like I’m ever going to feel anything along the lines of _love_ for him, if only because every time he’s there in the ER to berate me about ignoring his clinical judgement, (when of course I’m not ever afforded the same in return as a mere resident), as my senile patient is brought in for obstructing a highway in little more than his underwear and a hospital-issue blanket, there’s nothing I feel less. 

Love, _compassion_ , are all completely foreign to him; his intentions are unclear, even when we’ve made loose plans for me to go over on my days off I spend every hour waiting for a phone call to confirm he’s home, and I know _he_ will never come to my part of town. When I do climb into bed beside him at his four-bedroom house in an oversized hockey jersey, and he shares the pearls of the wiser graying attendings, how to deal with them, our relationship does slip into master and student, although not in the kinky ways I think that both you, _reader_ , and I would enjoy.

He plays the pretence of looking out for me and for my career, although there's always that striking thought in the back of my brain that this is not how things were supposed to be. Sure, I probably shouldn't be sleeping with an attending whose expertise I have no choice but to consult; although the attention he gives me, playing with my hair - no other partner has ever done that so delicately - is nice, it only adds to his patronising tone. His body isn't exactly the type to excite me; his flat, hairless and pink chest reminds me of Cookie's Dad, my Poppa, who would chase Chloe and I around his backyard with the hose back in the summers of the mid-seventies...

I still remember that first time, with Div, when I still couldn't quite believe where I had ended up after my shift, and clearly neither could he.

"...And how long has it been?" I toyed with him, not that he was the playful type. Clearly it had been _a while._

Yet each time I find myself moving closer to him, beyond the pastoral confines of my designated side of his bed, he rubs my back, respectful of my body, before _someone_ has to let him in that bit closer (guilty as charged); my legs spreading and sharing that most intimate space within me with him, just for a minute or two until the peak of his release. It's not so bad; I _was_ once lucky enough to feel the climax through a bite on my collarbone as I took care of the rest. Simple love with a complex touch.

At night when he sleeps I did often wonder if he would dream I would be there when he awoke, but I never stuck around to find out in person.

* * *

**Monday 26th September, 1994**  
  


Rumors flooded the ER floor of not only Carol's return to work, but also her snub to Doug by choosing to lunch with _John Taglieri_. Turns out they were seeing each other even _before_ Carol attempted suicide. 

Whatever that indicated, it did at least make me feel slightly better to not be the only late-twenties ER skirt (or pink scrubs) exploring the upper floors of County General for some...male attention. You can't blame us for lusting after something beyond Doug's near-obsessive behaviour or Mark's platonic cuddles, not that I was really in the mood for hugs after the humiliation of sticking out in the M&M like the rise in a teenage boy's pants. (Speaking of Carter, while he might be getting his fill from his favorite patient for now, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before some interest is piqued in one of the nurses...or doctors. Not that there are many eligible females to choose from. That's right, _I'm a catch_.)

* * *

**Thursday 6th October, 1994**

  
Is it bad I didn't want to _spend the night_ with Div after our date tonight? It's not like we had any reason to think he was _infected_ or anything (after being bitten by my patient...). I just...after today, dealing with Benton...and seeing Mark's reaction after actually admitting to him that I am _seeing_ Div, it all felt kinda... _flat_. Is Div a catch? I mean, he's got money, a good job...Dinner was fine I suppose... _sigh_. It would probably have been a better evening if I'd just hung around the Hospital and smoked cigars with Jerry. I could have at least fought my own corner for why Mark should be delighted if I were to have an affair with him. _He could be so lucky._  
  


* * *

**Friday 14th October, 1994**

Mark had better not move to Milwaukee. If he does, I swear to God, there's nothing left to keep _me_ in Chicago. As much as I love County, working under a great mentor like Morgenstern, pranking baby Carter...Mark's the reason _most of us_ are there, or at least Doug and I, I swear. Like Morgenstern told him, _he_ sets the tone of the place, makes putting up with the likes of Benton and Kaysen almost worth the hassle...

Div isn't exactly in my good books today either...saying I'm a better doctor than his _ex-wife_ is hardly the compliment of the year. He has stopped worrying about us being together publicly at work now his divorce has finalised and the house is in escrow...maybe I should be the one who should be concerned about being a go-to rebound for attendings in their forties looking for a cute resident who's an easy lay.  
  


* * *

**Thursday 20th October, 1994**

  
I know I said I had no reason to stay in Chicago, but if Chloe is planning on sticking around I definitely need to get outta here. Why on Earth I agreed to let her stay I have no idea...I've had enough dealing with alcoholics and drug addicts at work over the last week.

Div didn’t even want to know, until he showed up at my place and I couldn’t help but collapse into his arms as I broke down...

* * *

~~Thursday~~ **Friday 28th October, 1994  
  
****  
** I couldn't exactly stay angry at Div for long, especially when he was making a decent effort to take me out for my THIRTIETH BIRTHDAY!!!!! last night.

Not that either he nor I wanted to be reminded of how old I now am - ironically for opposite reasons - although he was less keen on keeping his plans for the evening to himself, meaning in no time I was confronted by Carol over whether or not we were official (after _two months!_ of dating) and eventually ended up bonding over our respective Grays' Anatomies (while I don't think Tag suffers the same afflictions as Div in the bedroom, his insistence to try and pin her down (at twenty seven! ridiculous if you ask me) would have me _reeling._

It would just have been nice to have known his plans before everyone else did...I suppose I had suggested we tell Chloe he is my boyfriend...not that would've helped stop her showing up at my work wasted, somehow avoiding a criminal damage to property charge and ruining my birthday night to boot. In the end, spending some time on the roof with John Carter, a bottle of champagne and a cigarette was the birthday I didn't just want, it was probably all I deserved.  
  


* * *

**Wednesday 1st November, 1994  
  
**

Oh my God, reading back that last entry...John Carter!?! What _was_ I thinking. I mean, he got cash but...  
  


* * *

**Thursday 10th November, 1994  
  
**

Ok, so Carter's cash really came in handy when I needed that mechanic at the last minute - impressed as he was that I knew how to hotwire a car, it's not exactly how I want life to be now that I'm in my _thirties, hardly_ living by example to these meek and mild med students. It is kinda hilarious though, seeing as I could be accurately accused of Grand Theft Auto if people see me merely attempting to get my own car started. 

Speaking of cars, Div is driving me up the wall. He's treating everyone around us like shit on his shoe, both colleagues as lovable as Jerry and complete strangers, as though I didn't already worry what everyone thought about him now that we're _public_ (of sorts.) When I needed a bed for a dementia patient he wouldn't even look twice at the chart, and the second a dunk insults him he's admitting the guy for 72 hours. I tried to call him out, and in seconds he was flipping the switch and asking me out for dinner. Sometimes I can't even look at him.

Nor can I even begin to imagine either how he'd react knowing how much cash Carter must've fronted me...and it is kinda interesting that he accused me of wasting _his_ time...even if he meant making him late for rounds, not messing him around in *life in general*. I'm not sure how keen a divorcee of almost 45 was to get back on the horse, especially considering he's not one to really like to have a go on top of anything. Sigh. 

At least once our friend sobered up was nice enough. He called me a _treat_. He's right, I _am_ a treat. 

* * *

**Friday 18th November, 1994  
**  
  
Do you remember how Div never wanted to stay at my place? Now he's pretty much demanding we stay there, although I have no idea why. It's not like either of us gets any better sleep; as the weather gets worse as we head into Winter, the combination of condensation on the glass and the constant sound of dripping from the fire escape outside, I can't say I appreciate waking up from dreams of waterfalls in Venezuela to realise it's just the beautiful sound of poor guttering and, as a bonus, I need to pee as a result.

It might be something to do with the fact that he's been weird since he moved to his new place, (massively downsizing to an apartment not much bigger than my own, frankly, isn't quite what I signed up for when I started seeing him...is that bad?)

I also didn't exactly expect him to be reciting every complaint of his work life into a Dictaphone at 4am, when neither of us get enough sleep as it is, and not in a good way... He was drawling on about the lengths he goes to to humanise the patients. He sounded pretty numb. 

Honestly, I'm worried.

Worried the next time he snaps it'll be the end his career, or worse, the end of mine. If he really wanted to, he could destroy me professionally, bringing back out that patronizing persona he liked to lord over me when we were still dating in secret. 

I'm worried he that the way he feels about me is as superficial as the way I feel about him, and that I continue to go after these kinda guys who leave me feeling as crap about myself as they feel about themselves.

Why do I do it? Why even date him? He makes me smile I suppose...He makes me feel good about myself. When he apologized to me, opened up a little, I saw a glimmer of hope. But then he didn't show for Thanksgiving dinner. He was probably busy with that patient's suicide, I can imagine it's a lot of paperwork. More stress for the poor guy.

* * *

**Thursday 8th December, 1994  
  
**

I hope Mark doesn't take it the wrong way, what I was saying about Carter...yeah, so he's got _beautiful eyes, thick hair..._

Maybe I'm just missing male attention again, lamenting the idea of Christmas alone. It's been forever since I spoke to Div, I've not seen him since I last wrote...

And CAROL is FREAKING ENGAGED. Three weeks ago they were pretty much broken up over her sleeping with and kissing Doug, now they're getting MARRIED!!?!

* * *

**Sunday 24th December, 1994**

  
I couldn't face Carol and Tag's engagement party last night, not with everyone asking where Div is. It wouldn't be so bad if I could answer that question...the fact that I can't is beyond humiliating, let alone devastating. I cannot believe I had no idea he didn't work at County anymore, that he abandoned his apartment without taking back his key. As much as Carter made it slightly better, having him make a pass at me...not quite the action I was hoping for. He's cute and all, but I don't see how it's remotely appropriate to think about anyone else right now, regardless of how I may or may not feel about him. And there I am giving Carter the gift that I would have given to him? Shit, isn't it.

I think a tiny part of me used to think he was the one. Maybe just because of how easy it would be, life set up, made like my parents never thought I could.  Now I'm sick of thinking anything at all. It's not like I can kid myself that he's ever coming back... I just have so much...heartache. Like the way it physically hurts, a throbbing pain in my chest, swelling dryness in my throat, nothing I can tell myself or that anyone can do to make it better. I can't even cry.

And so begins the loneliest Christmas of my life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Kam, M and Tefi for the replies to my constant nudges for inspiration, and to Maroon 5 for when I couldn't quite find the words.


End file.
